


Turnabout Crests

by dothemario



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Multi, POV Alternating, POV First Person, sorry glenn dies immediately, tried my best to write this in the style of an aa trial lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25351633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothemario/pseuds/dothemario
Summary: In a modern-day Fire Emblem: Three Houses /Ace Attorney AU, your favorite Garreg Mach teens have traded in their Heroes Relics for attorney badges, and are set out on a journey to bring justice to Fodlan.Each chapter will feature a different case based on the events of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, as well as different characters (although each case will build on each other in a storyline, and characters will be recurring). Investigative and Trial phases are separated by chapters.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Turnabout Answers: Investigation Phase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rookie Attorney Dimitri Blaiddyd has just woken up in a hospital, to find that his father and best friend were murdered the night before. Determined to avenge their deaths, he takes on the case as a defense attorney, thirsty for answers.

_**December 14, 7:34 AM** _   
_**Garreg Mach Hospital** _

I was incapacitated when it happened.   
The second I came to, they told me.

It’s not uncommon for me to have nightmares, so I laughed off the news, looked to the sky, and awaited the moment where I would jolt awake, myself and my bedsheets doused in sweat. Where I could heave a sigh, and reach for the glass of water on my bedstand.

But as the nurse’s glassy, concerned stare continued to drive through me, I was forced to look both her and my new reality in the face. 

I was already awake.  
And my father, along with my best friend, were dead.

The room started to spin, but I tried my best to keep a hold on the present. But then, maybe the present isn’t where I should be at the moment.   
The nurse makes a futile attempt to catch me, but I am already long gone, bounding through the hospital corridors, with her periwinkle hair being but a speck in my backward glance.  
It is unbeknownst to me in that moment that my wrists are screaming in pain, or that all I’m wearing is a thin hospital smock. That wasn’t the moment I was living in.

My mind was racing toward yesterday.

  
**_\--_ **   
**_Yesterday_ **   
**_December 13, 5:44 PM_ **   
**_Home of Mayor Blaiddyd_ **

There wasn’t much to remember, since I was knocked out for the later half of the day. Still, there had to be an answer somewhere.

I had just gotten home from the Eisner & Co. Law office, which is where I currently work. I guess this would be a good time for me to introduce myself.

My name is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and I am a defense attorney. Well, as of two months ago, that is. I graduated from Garreg Mach Law School and took the bar exam well over a year ago, but as accomplished as that may sound, finding a job was a completely different, mind-bogglingly impossible challenge. I got my lucky break last October when my former professor, Byleth Eisner, noticed my pitiful ‘Aspiring Law Graduate’ headline on Linkedin; they offered me a job at their law office, which they had just inherited from their retired father, the legendary defense attorney Jeralt Eisner.

The last two months I spent the most of my work days filing paperwork, as well as organizing evidence for Professor’s upcoming trials. As much as I desperately wanted to be the one behind the courtroom podium, I understood that it was important for me to first learn the ropes of the job.

Well, that’s what I thought up until today, at least. Let’s get back to my story.

On December 13th, at 5:44 PM, I was gathering the ingredients for a delectable grilled cheese sandwich when I heard the front door lock jiggle open, followed by downtrodden footsteps, and at last, a heavy sigh.

I looked over my shoulder at my father, Mayor Lambert Blaiddyd: a name fit for a king, and a king he was. He shouldered a black overcoat over his navy blue suit, an ensemble that rightfully spoke that he was a man of great importance. Looking up beyond the sharp outfit, you would see sleek blond hair, and an expertly trimmed beard; however, these were just accessories to his eyes, the kindest blue eyes you will ever see.

But today those eyes were clouded with worry, and crow’s feet of age clawed at the corners. My father stared hopelessly at a packet of papers he held in front of him.

“Dad, are you okay?”

It was a few moments until he broke his silence with another sigh. “Actually, son, I’m not.”

Without another word, I dropped the ten slices of cheese I was holding, and made my way to the couch, where my father joined me.  
I could see him carefully forming his words as he stared at the wall ahead. 

“This morning I received a concerning tip regarding the Faerghus Police Force,” he started. “There is....reason to believe that our Chief of Police has been involved in...unjust practices. Illegal practices, actually.”  
Hearing that, it was obvious why he was so uncomfortable.

“The Chief of Police...you don’t mean...Auntie?”

Again with that colossal sigh. “That is exactly who I mean.”

The Chief of Police, known to me as Auntie Cornelia, is one of my father’s closest friends, their bond tracing back to a time I couldn’t remember. Previously known as one of the best forensic scientists in Fodlan, Cornelia was promoted to her current position with high praise from dad. More importantly, there isn’t a single moment I remember with her that wasn’t filled with infectious laughter.

“That’s impossible, she would never do anything of the sort,” I retorted.

Response already expertly prepared, my father coolly spoke, “My source is one whom I trust with my life. I have absolutely no reason to doubt the information I’ve been provided.” He broke his gaze from the wall, and looked to me: eyes brimming with sadness. “Cornelia has also been...acting a bit off, these days, to put it lightly.”

He stood. “I’m sorry, son. Tonight, Vice Mayor Rodrigue and I will be auditing the police station. I received the warrant before leaving my office today.” He weakly brandished a paper from the packet in his hand, offering me to take a look.  
I couldn’t make much of the document, and my dad didn’t have any more information on the accusation other than what he had already divulged. 

“Can I come with you?”

At first, the sharp whip of his head seemed to indicate ‘no’, but his expression was one of thoughtful surprise. I mean, he knows better than to tell me something dubious but vague without expecting pushback. I am an attorney (albeit newly hired), after all, and this was my realm; there is nothing more that I wanted than an answer to this strange situation.

“Yes, you can come. Rodrigue arrives at 6 PM, and we may leave together to the precinct.”

That is where my memory stops: with these last words I recall from my father. I did not find those answers I wanted, and instead stand here present day with nothing but questions.

_**\--** _   
_**Present Day** _   
_**December 14, 7:55 AM** _

My frenzied escape from Garreg Mach Hospital has brought me here: a slate gray building, longer than it was tall, shuttered away behind a screen of barbed wire fencing. It shames me to say, as an attorney, that this was my first time at the Faerghus Detention Center.  
I pushed through the entrance doors, possibly a bit too forcefully, as the security guards glared at me with fastidiousness and...bewilderment?

That’s when I realized I was not wearing pants. Well, it’s too late to turn back now.  
With as much normalcy and confidence I could muster, I strode to the front desk and brought my eyes up to the clerk.

“I would like to request a visit to a detainee,” I declared.

He didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “We only have one detainee at the moment, so I assume you are asking for Mr. Molinaro.”

Molinaro. So that’s his name, the murderer.  
It’s one I’ve never heard, but what does it matter at this point? These days, anyone could kill anybody, regardless of relationship.

“Sir.”

I didn’t realize I was glowering mindlessly at the poor man. He stared at me sleepily, and it was clear that my inner monologue was wasting his precious time.

“Yes. I am here to see him. Is he available?”

The clerk’s hazy blue eyes scanned his computer monitor for a bit, then answered.

“No.”

“No?”

“He is in for questioning at the moment, and is currently unavailable,” Linhardt (finally read his nametag) droned, twirling his shoulder-length locks. I noticed he had begun to take more interest in who I was, as he was looking me up and down with disapproval. “What exactly is your...business here, sir? Are you involved with his case?"

Well, no.   
“Yes,” I ran my hands down my sides in search of my pockets, when I realized two things:

One: I did not have any pockets. I was wearing a hospital gown.  
Two: Holy fucking shit, what is wrong with my hands?

I jerked my arms up in recoil and grasped my stinging wrist, which only made my opposite wrist ache more. Not only was I severely injured for reasons unknown, but I had left all my belongings at the hospital. This includes my attorney badge, which I had hoped to show Linhardt here so he would let me see Molinaro.  
It started to dawn on me that I was a pasty man with disheveled hair, donning nothing but bandages and a flimsy hospital gown, grumbling and flinching at his own hands in a high-security detention center.

“Look, I promise I have business here,” I started, but our friend Linhardt was not having it. 

“No, I’m pretty sure you don’t,” was that _sass?_ “If I were you, I would be on my way.” His eyes looked beyond my shoulder, and I turned to see a very displeased, very swole security guard coming my way.

Nothing was going to stop me from confronting Molinaro, if it was the last thing I ever did. I owe it to my dad...I owe it to Glenn. Remembering that this man also killed Glenn, my childhood friend, gave me the spark I needed to further retaliate.

“Please. This case means the world to me, and I need answers. The victims are my family. I have to talk to him,” I blurted, admittedly desperately.

“Yeah, no. You’re crazy, pal. I’m afraid you’re going to have to-”

“I’ll speak with him.”

Linhardt was cut off by a smooth voice, deep like velvet. Both myself and the guards who were manhandling me jerked our heads in its direction.

In the narrow, starkly lit hallway stood a stranger, who loomed so tall and had shoulders so broad that I didn’t notice there were two policemen flanking his sides. His hair was shining platinum, and long strands of it fell loose from a bun and framed his angular, yet calm face. He was dressed smartly: a perfectly pressed dress shirt lay beneath his sherpa-lined jacket, tucked cleanly into a pair of corduroys.

The handcuffs choking his wrists did not compliment his look at all.

“Mr. Hevring,” he spoke once more, “I’ve just finished my questioning, and should have time for a visitor before my next appointment. Would you be as kind as to lead this man to my cell?”

Lindhart raised his eyebrows at the formality of speech, but seemed to have no real opinion on whether I was in or out of his facility. “Sure, go ahead.”

The mystery man nodded, and then shifted his eyes to mine. 

These must be the eyes of a murderer. 

...Then why on earth do I feel like I’ve seen these eyes before? Eyes kinder than any eyes I had ever seen…

No. I can’t believe I nearly compared Molinaro’s eyes to those of my father. Eyes that likely watched the life fade from his.

I shook the thought from my head, and followed Molinaro to his cell.

**_\--_ **   
**_December 14, 8:06 AM_ **   
**_Dedue Molinaro’s Cell_ **

“Care to introduce yourself, my friend?”

Behind the plexiglass barrier, Dedue Molinaro leaned his knees on his elbows to lower his gaze to mine. While he seemed so serene, so peaceful, I looked down at my bandaged hands, refusing to look him in the eyes ever again. I noticed then that I was shaking uncontrollably.

I shot up to my feet and faced the back wall.

“My name is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” I responded. I felt his grey eyes boring holes between my shoulderblades.

I couldn’t look at him.

“You killed my best friend...and my father.”

The holes joined and drove a pit into my stomach, my lungs, my throat. I took a quavering breath.

_“Why?”_

The weeping holes filling my body were plugged with freezing silence, but were drained by a velvet voice.

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, I did not murder your best friend. I did not murder your father.”

The tears were boiling hot, but they were flung off when I whipped my face to his.

Liar. Killer. Scum.

I screamed these things, breath condensing in droplets on the glass between us.

Yet, when the fog dissipated, the man whose face I stared into was not the monster I was berating.

I slumped into my chair, and allowed Molinaro the chance to retort. He did not.

“I will take this moment to introduce myself then, if that is alright,” he chided.

I had nothing to say, so he began.

“My name is Dedue Molinaro. I am twenty-five years old,” he started, as if he were dictating a biography. “I am a PhD student at the University of Duscur. I was in Faerghus Park yesterday with some classmates of mine when a riot broke out, and the murder occurred. I have been accused of murdering Glenn Fraldarius and Lambert Blaiddyd, both of whom I had never heard of before my arrest.”

I should’ve cursed him for saying their names in vain, but for some reason, my heart willed against it. Instead, I asked him a question.

“What do you study at UD?”

He didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised at my change in tone, as if he knew it were coming. “Criminal Psychology. A bit ironic, if I say so myself, considering my situation at hand.” The ghost of a smile swept over his lips.

“Why on earth were UD students rioting in a park in Faerghus?”

“I would like to know the answer to that as well,” Dedue clasped his hands behind his head as he took in the bewildered (still teary) look I gave him. “My peers and I did not go to the park to riot. We were holding a peaceful demonstration regarding our school, and Faerghus was the second city we’d travelled to on our quest to spread awareness. We had no intentions of violence; I am not even sure our students are the ones who initiated it.”

“Demonstration? Like a protest? Protesting what?”

“Unfair admission practices.” I had no idea what he meant by that, so I pressed him further.

“As you may know, the University of Duscur is one of the most prestigious colleges in all of Fodlan,” he began, before qualifying his statement, “it isn’t my intention to brag,” but I gestured for him to continue. I knew UD was competitive: I was rejected, after all, back in high school.

“Naturally, considering it is our local college, you’d think Duscur natives would make a large fraction of the UD student body. However, that isn’t the case. Can you guess what percentage we make up?”

So he’s from Duscur, not just a student residing there. I tucked that thought away for later. “I don’t know, 50%? Half?”

“I wish I could say you were close, but Duscur natives make up a mere 1.5% of the UD student population.”

I gaped at him. “1.5%? That’s next to nothing!”

Dedue nodded solemnly.

“Why is it so low?”

I must have touched a nerve, since he took some time to explain. 

“The other nations of Fodlan don’t have the… most kind opinions of Duscur, when it comes to discussing anything other than UD.” For the first time, Dedue broke away, and looked off absently to his right. 

“For decades, Duscur has been considered a slum, a stain on our nation’s history. My friends, family, and myself have had slurs and threats thrown at us to no end, equating us to brainless thugs. Duscur is ‘the wrong side of the tracks’, ‘the ghetto’, to all who look down on it.”

“Yet, we have no choice but to accept the labels they bind to us; government administration leaves Duscur abandoned, resourceless, with all of their funding fed to the university. We have no option but to keep going, even though the world has turned its back on us.”

“I worked hard, harder than most, to secure admission to UD. I gave up everything I had to make myself competitive, even leaving home to pursue opportunities in Adrestia that Duscur couldn’t dream of offering. This chance, a chance I could barely count on, cost me my adolescence, cost me all of my savings. It cost me my chance to see my parents one last time...before they were killed.”

I looked up, to see kind eyes clouded with sadness once again. I wasn’t the only one who had lost everything.

“My story of ‘success’ is an uncommon one. Children of Duscur rarely make it through middle school these days. When I was younger, I was so angry, thinking they were throwing their lives away. Today, however, I realize that they can’t even imagine such a life to begin with. They are simply just never given the chance. That, Mr. Blaiddyd, is why I protest. It is who I protest for.”

We sat in silence as Dedue’s last words permeated through the glass. 

His statement dawned a light on me. I’m not looking for answers anymore, at least I don’t think I am. I’m looking for the same thing Dedue has been fighting for all his life.

Justice.

Our eyes met, and through his I found the words my heart was begging me to say the moment we first met.

“You didn’t kill Glenn. You didn’t kill my father. I’m sorry.”

A smile, one that was knowing, understanding, and grateful. A smile I could return.

“Thank you, Mr. Blaiddyd.”

“Please call me Dimitri,” I reached out to shake his hand, but was met with a fistfull of wall, and a familiar dose of agony.

“Are you alright?” Dedue stood abruptly, before sitting down once again after remembering he was locked in a cell, and not actually in the same room with me. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about your...condition.”

I furrowed my brows at him, then remembered what I looked like, and laughed the first laugh I’d had in what seemed like ages.

“Oh yeah, about that...I suppose I do look pretty insane right now. I probably sounded a bit insane when I was screaming and thrashing against those guards earlier, too...” My words turned into a mumble as I scratched the back of my head. I was met with an easygoing laugh, as smooth as its owner’s matching speaking voice.

I cleared my throat and regained my composure to the best of my ability. “I came here directly from a hospital ICU. Apparently, I was with my father when the crime occurred, but was knocked unconscious, and sustained injuries,” I held my palms up to indicate said injuries, and Dedue nodded in understanding.

“I don’t remember anything of the incident, unfortunately, but I believe you, Dedue. I believe you with all the trust I have-” my voice caught, because an idea struck me.

“What’s wrong Dimitri?”

“I’m… a defense attorney.” I knew exactly what to do. I had never been so sure of anything in my life.

“Dedue Molinaro,” I declared, “If you are willing, and if you do not yet have representation, I would be honored if you would consider me as your defense in the upcoming trial!”

It all made sense, this is why I became a lawyer, why I studied law in the first place: to seek and instill justice, to defend the innocent. It was never about answers or accusation. Not only that, but this was the only opportunity I had to start my investigation into the murder, to avenge my father and Glenn.

It was the perfect first trial.

Oh. This is my first trial. Shit.

Earth to Dimitri, you are an idiot. Why would Dedue want you, a rookie attorney who has not only never stood in court, but a rookie attorney who just called him murderous scum a few minutes ago? 

Backtrack time. “I’m so sorry, Dedue, th-that was totally out of place and out of hand. I shouldn’t have-”

“Yes.”

Eyes of kindness. But this time, a glimmer of something new.

Hope.

“...Really?” I mumbled.

He nodded slowly, but surely. “Yes,” he repeated. “I trust you as well, and it is not like I have any defense attorneys running to my feet, as a murderer from Duscur.”

I thanked him profusely and began to blabber my apologies, when he raised his hand to silence me.

“Dimitri, I do have to make it clear to you that the trial is tomorrow morning. You are aware of this, correct?”

Oh shiiiiit.

I sprung from my seat. “Tomorrow? I’m so sorry Dedue, but I definitely need to go investigate, like, right now, so I don’t think I have time to ask you anything else...” 

I turned to the door, but returned, “Well, I actually don’t have anything to ask you. Your alibi is solid, and your motive is nonexistent. There is absolutely no reason for you to have committed this crime. Actually, why were you even accused in the first place?”

“Wait, Dimitri, there is one thing you should-” he called out to me, but I was already out the door. I bode goodbye to Linhardt and his guards, then met the cold rush of winter air as I exited the detention center.

It was time to gather some evidence. But first, pants.

**_\--_ **   
**_December 14, 9:30 AM_ **   
**_Faerghus Park Gate_ **

With pants on, hoodie zipped, and ponytail tightened, I wheeled over to the scene of the crime on my bike. Maybe I have a driver’s licence. Maybe I don’t.

The park was a billowing patch of lush greenery, smack dab in the heart of Faerghus. On a normal day, picnic blankets littered the glades of pillowy grass, and children splashed in the ornamental fountains, sculpted after the four Saints of Seiros, with a central one in the likeness of Seiros herself, the legendary savior of Fodlan. Today however, the atmosphere was bleak, and the entire park was cast in deep shadows, save for the highlighter-yellow ‘DO NOT CROSS’ tape snaked around the perimeter fencing. I was nearly through the park gate when a loud AHEM came from behind me.

So close. I turned around and was met with deep amber aviator sunglasses, perched atop a dazzling smile, and housed beneath a nest of crimson curls.

  
“Well if it isn’t Mister Dimitri Blaiddyd himself!” 

“Sylvain, hi.” Well, if I had to talk to a cop today, I’m glad it was going to be Sylvain. At least that’s what I was thinking before he pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Dimitri...what are you doing here?” he whispered in a low tone, but he kept his signature smile plastered to his face, as to not draw attention to surrounding personnel. “You shouldn’t be here, pal. You need to go home and rest... _now_.”  
I shouldered out of his death-grip of a hug, but winced when I tried to smooth my wrinkled jacket with my stupid hands. 

“Sylvain, I’m the defense attorney. For the case. You could say it’s my obligation to be here.”   
I almost laughed at the wide eyed dismay on Sylvain’s face, but my amusement was quickly replaced with dread when an all too familiar drawl came from within the park.

“Is that true, Defense Attorney Blaiddyd?”

Felix. One of me and Sylvain’s closest friends...and Glenn’s brother.  
This should’ve crossed my mind much earlier; Felix is a detective, I should’ve expected that I would run into him at some point during this case. I just didn’t think it would be this soon. _Too_ soon.

“Fe! There you are,” Sylvain’s eyes lit up, and he hopped the fence, wrapping his arms around the detective’s waist.

“D-don’t touch me! And do NOT call me nicknames.” Felix hissed, swatting at his assailant, who only clung on harder, digging his chin into his shoulder.

“Ugh! Sylvain, go away. Go find some woman to objectify,” Sylvain began to pout, but turned serious when Felix spoke more quietly. “I need to talk to... _him_.”

With Sylvain off to objectify women, I was left alone with a red-faced and irritated Felix, the only thing protecting me being the park gate. 

Felix was, without a doubt, tiny. Well, compared to Sylvain and I, anyways; it was something we would always tease him about during our childhood, along with his tendency to cry over everything. 

But now, as a young man, Felix was everything but small, in regards to his presence. His scowl and pointed words were more than enough to fell a grown man, and his quick wit and knack for evidence analysis has turned countless court disputes on their heads. When paired with his intimidating profile and merciless eyes, the color of raging flames, it is plain to see why Chief Detective Nevrand promoted him to be her right-hand man.

All of these offensive tactics were in play when he bit me with his question once more. 

“Well? Is it true?”

There was nothing to say but the truth. “Yes. I have taken Mr. Molinaro’s case.”

Where I thought there would be ceaseless protest, there was instead contemplation. He didn’t yell, he didn’t chastise. After a painful eternity, he spoke up.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Felix growled, staring at the sidewalk at my feet.

“I would say the same to you, Detective Fraldarius.” I could play the no-first-name game, too.

“It’s my job…” he retorted. He lifted his eyes to mine: his irises burned like the embers of a forgotten fire. 

He began to laugh, but it wasn’t an honest sound, rough and low with malice. Nothing like the laughs he would belt when we would watch shitty movies together, or the tipsy giggles he slurred after one beer at our parties, his head resting in my lap. 

“You’re just like a boar. Reckless, desperate, thoughtless. All this just to find answers that you probably won’t find.” He turned on his heel, and began to strut his way back to the center of the park.

“How does that make me any different from you, Felix?”

Stopped dead in his tracks, he didn’t even bother to turn around, instead choosing to yell at the trees behind him. My breath hitched, as I realize that from behind, Felix looks identical to his father, and, hauntingly, identical to Glenn. It was as if I were staring at the back of Glenn's apparition, refusing to be put to rest.

“You chose this case of your own accord, yet you didn’t have to. I have a job to do, and I’m doing it. Are you so thirsty for answers that you’re willing to worm your way into this through any way possible? Even if it means defending the man who killed your father? The man who killed-”

Felix’s raspy belts were caught in his throat, and it didn’t take long for me to hop the fence and turn his face to mine. 

I guess he still is a bit of a crybaby.

But then again, judging from this morning’s events, so am I.

“Dedue Molinaro did not kill either of them, Felix. I know this for sure.”

Coming to his senses, he hastily wiped his face on his blazer, and aggressively shrugged my hands off of his shoulders. I must have grunted in pain, because Felix’s scowling facade broke for just a moment, expressing concern.

Before he could say anything, and before I could lose his attention, I continued, “I need your trust when I say this. Call me whatever you want, but without your faith, we will never achieve justice for our family.”

Somehow, Felix must have found it in him somewhere to trust me, because the embers were extinguished to smoking coals of resignation. 

“...I’ll take you to the crime scene. Walk quickly. Don’t snoop around for longer than you have to. Nobody here knows who you are...yet.”

He grabbed my wrist (immediately letting go with an exasperated sigh when I yelped), and led me to the middle of the park, the sunlight slowly fading away as the trees shut us in.

**_\--_ **   
**_December 14, 10:15 AM_ **   
**_Heart of Faerghus Park_ **

If Felix hadn’t been at my side, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stomach the sight of their blood spattered on the telephone pole, pooling in the mud below. With Byleth, I’d seen much worse, but...you know.

Felix must have been thinking the same, as I heard a sharp inhale on my left. Looking down, I saw that his eyes were closed, his lips pursed.

There was nothing particularly peculiar about the crime scene. Felix laid the details out to me at a nearby bench, and presented me with schematics of how it would have looked with the corpses still present; I assume he chose to show me these, rather than the actual photos, out of consideration for my feelings.

The story stood as a riot caused by a University of Duscur protest gone awry. My dad, Rodrigue and I were cutting through the park as a shortcut to the precinct, when we got tangled in the crowd. I was knocked out, and during that time police forces arrived on the scene, which included Glenn. Allegedly, Dedue tied Glenn and my father to the telephone pole, using a scarf, and stabbed them, unable to defend themselves. He then fled the scene, but was arrested later that night in his apartment in Duscur. No murder weapon was found, and it seems there wasn’t any other telling evidence left either...

“Uh, Felix?” I interjected, interrupting his explanation. “Sorry, but...how does any of this point to Dedue Molinaro being the murderer?”

“Uh, Dimitri?” Felix mocked my tone, “did you even interview your client?”

Ouch! Still, well deserved, because that was something that I, in fact, did not do.

“I didn’t have time, but he told me his alibi and story and everything and it’s completely solid-”

“Shut up,” Felix barked, and he rummaged through his messenger bag, pulling out a miniscule plastic bag that held...nothing? “Look at this.”

“I am looking,” I complained, “but what exactly am I looking at? Air?”

“Look harder, you dolt! Do you see that?” Felix jabbed his slender finger at the plastic, and I did see something glimmer under the agitation. A single strand of long, platinum hair, coiled on itself in a perfect spiral.

... _Dedue’s_ hair?

“What the _fuck?_ Let me see that-” I grabbed for the bag, but it fell to the bench seat between us. 

My hand...wouldn’t close? 

I looked at my palms, which were once again shaking. I tried to close them once again, but only managed to barely curl my fingertips before being met with the familiar, yet still unbearable jolt of pain.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Felix barked. To anyone else, this would seem harsher than sandpaper, but that’s just the way Felix shows his love. I think.

“You need to go back to the hospital, Dimitri. How did you even leave?”

“Never mind that!” I snapped, maybe even a little too angrily for him, judging from his widened eyes, “just tell me what this is.”

Felix leaned back into the bench and picked up the plastic bag, which had fallen between the seat cracks and into the grass below. 

“I tested this strand of hair this morning, and it is a perfect match with Dedue Molinaro. I found it on the scarf. It’s his scarf, Dimitri.”

He pulled the photo of the scarf from the pile of files on his lap. The scarf was cerulean, faded from what seemed to be everyday wear. It was striped with a burnt orange motif. This was the same scarf that was tied to the telephone pole a few feet away from me, that tied the two corpses together just last night.

“How are you feeling, wise guy? A little wary of your ‘innocent client’, are you?” Felix’s words were a snarl, but tinged with playfulness. He wouldn’t be here telling me this if he didn’t actually believe in my judgement.

“Yes! I mean, no! Dedue is innocent, without a doubt! I just... _ugh_ , why didn’t he tell me this?”

_“Wait, Dimitri, there is one thing you should-”_ Dedue’s call echoed in my mind.

  
Goddammit, he _did_ try to tell me, after all. So much for being diligent, and rushing off to the scene as early as possible, since this is a piece of information I probably kinda-sorta need desperately.

“I guess you’re going to have to find that out tomorrow. This is all I can give you at the moment, but if I find anything else, I’ll text you.” Felix gathered the heap of papers into a neat stack, and went to hand it to me, but resolved to sticking it in my backpack instead. Damn these hands.

“Thanks, Felix.” 

We stood, and a brief moment of quiet walked between us as we prepared our goodbyes.

Felix and his father, Rodrigue, had never gotten along very well. As a result, my father was as much of a father to Felix as he was to me; there were too many nights to count where he and Sylvain (who also had his own share of family issues) stayed the night at my childhood home, rambling to my dad about relationship issues (Sylvain) and injuries from playground fights (Felix). Dad always responded with hearty chuckles, and words of advice. Words of love.

But neither of the two combined spent as much time with me as Glenn did.

Glenn was my foil, my partner in crime, my brother. Inseparable by birth...and now, as it seems, inseparable by death. 

I will stop at nothing to avenge him, to bring his soul peace. He would have done the same for me. I know Felix feels the same, and that we both share this same determination to uncover the mystery behind my father’s death as well.

As if he were reading my thoughts, Felix gives me a wistful smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dimitri.”

“You too. Goodbye, Felix.”

_**\--** _   
_**December 14, 2:40 PM** _   
_**Faerghus Park Gate** _

The head physician had to be around here somewhere. 

Felix had provided me with more than I deserved regarding evidence, but I was still missing one crucial piece of information: the autopsy report.

I tried to ignore the anxiety bubbling in my stomach, rising higher as the prospect of reading about the deaths in detail loomed closer. But this was a step I needed to take if I was going to give my best performance in the upcoming trial.

When I reached the exit to the park, I spotted a figure shrouded in a white coat, which was embellished with the Garreg Mach Hospital crest. 

“Dr. Rhea Nabatea, correct?”

When the physician turned to face me, I was met with a billowing cascade of seafoam green hair, which landed impossibly delicately on her shoulder. She seemed to exude light, from her faultless porcelain skin to her equally bright green eyes. 

I must have looked a bit too awestruck, because she tittered politely, a laugh like a wind chime. I think I’ve spent too much time reading Sylvain’s over-the-top fanfics, I promise I don’t typically follow this sort of thought process.

“Yes, that would be me. You must be Dimitri Blaiddyd. I am blessed to have the chance to meet you,” she dulcetly responded, gracefully extending her hand. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I would shake your hand, ma’am, but I uh…” I chuckled awkwardly and routinely waved my bandaged hands at her. “A-and yes, that is me. I’m him. Dimitri.” 

Dr. Nabatea’s expression cracked with concern. “You are unwell? How peculiar for you to be assigned to a case in your condition…” I elected not to tell her about the rash decisions that actually brought me here, “nonetheless, I will have an order made at the hospital for you. Traumatic nerve injury is, unfortunately, something I have seen in patients many times, and there are aids I can provide you with.”

Thank goddess for this ethereal woman! 

“T-thank you so much. That would mean the world to me,” I stuttered, “actually, on another note, I would actually like to ask you for one more favor.”

“I’m sure you mean the autopsy report,” she beamed knowingly. Out of what seemed to be thin air, she produced a manila folder. Like Felix, she gestured to my backpack, so I turned to allow her to slide it inside.

“Within that folder you will find all you need to know about the circumstances of the two deaths. The medical team assigned to this autopsy is one I trust dearly, and I am confident that the information provided will be as accurate as can be.

“In summary, the victims were subject to similar injuries. Abrasions were found on their chest and upper arms, indicating the victims were tightly bound by a taut rope, or similar object. Lambert Blaiddyd was found with three stab wounds: two piercing his upper left back with no exit wound, and one through his center, exiting to the right of his navel. Glenn Fraldarius had one wound, a cut through his lower back that also exited near his navel. Although we are able to confirm that each wound was created with the same weapon, we are unable to determine the exact type of weapon used. It is estimated that the time between the injuries and death was ten minutes.”

I thanked the heavenly doctor profusely, and before I could say anything stupid, set out for my office. There was a lot to unpack.

  
_**\--** _   
_**December 14, 8:48 PM** _   
_**Eisner & Co. Law Office** _

“Dimitri? What in the world are you doing here?”

The answer to that was ‘sitting at my desk for hours, trying to make sense of this evidence’, but that wasn’t something I could say to my boss, who I totally absolutely 110% remembered to tell I was taking this case.

“Professor! Hey!” I spun my chair around with my arms open in greeting, hoping I didn’t seem panicked in the slightest, “I have something to tell you, actually.”

Byleth walked over slowly, placing their hands on my desk. I desperately avoided their gaze, turning my head away; those eyes seem like they could literally pierce the veil of space and time, and I really didn’t have the emotional resilience to deal with that today.

“Dimitri, you are supposed to be in the hospital. Recovering. Not poring over...what even are these…?” As they reached down to shuffle through Felix’s evidence files, I had no choice but to come clean.

“I took the case. It was in the spur of the moment, I didn’t think to consult you first. I’m sorry Byleth, but this is something I need to do.”

Shock tore across their face, and time seemed to stand still.

“Dimitri, you don’t mean… _the_ case?”

I said nothing, since they without a doubt knew my answer. Byleth sprung up from my desk, placing their palms on each side of their head, and began to pace the length of the room.

“I--Dimitri, you...this is bad. Quite bad. Dimitri, this is your first case. It’s in less than twenty-four hours. Not only that, but you’re supposed to be in the ICU right now. Maybe that’s why Marianne called from the hospital earlier today, I should’ve picked up-”

“Professor. Please listen to me.”

“No, Dimitri. _You_ listen to _me_. You are in absolutely no shape to be taking this case, let alone taking this case without my permission. A murder trial is not to be taken lightly, especially when you have personal connection to those involved,” Byleth stood in place for a moment, and breathed a long sigh, regaining composure, “Please send in a call to the detention center and rescind your defense offer. Now.”

Courage flared inside me, and I found the strength to look straight into those piercing jade eyes.

“No, Professor, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I stated, without a quaver in tone to be found. “Dedue Molinaro is innocent, and I firmly believe his testimony.”

A sigh of exasperation. “Dimitri, this case, its…” Byleth’s voice trailed into a whisper, “Dimitri...your father.”

“I know.”

I stood, and walked over to the window behind me, which overlooked the city. In the distance, I caught a glimpse of the places I used to go with my dad: the park, the diner downtown, the theater. The playground where Glenn and I would play cops and robbers, and chase squirrels until we collapsed into a giggling heap in a blanket of autumn leaves. The bar where we would meet every Friday with our friends, laughing our stresses away, steins of beer clinking brightly as we toasted.

Just a block away from that bar was the sprawling gray shadow of the detention center. I raised my eyes to the skyline, which highlighted the train tracks that separated Faerghus and Duscur. 

“My dad is dead, Glenn is dead, and Dedue Molinaro will be put on trial tomorrow. These are three things that are factual, things that I can’t change, or turn my back on.

“However, I’ve been presented with the chance to turn the tides on one of these circumstances. I know Dedue did not kill them, or have anything to do with the riot at all; I knew this from the moment I looked him in the eye.

“I can’t bring them back to life, and I know that. Turning my back on Dedue, blindly pointing a finger at someone to blame...that won’t bring them back either. I have a chance to make things right, Byleth, to re-route the tracks of this case and save someone who was also wronged by this crime. If I turn away, Dedue may never see the light of day. He would be worse than dead: a student, in the wrong place at the wrong time, sentenced to a life behind bars for a crime he did not commit. Would I let that happen? Would you?”

I turn my head to look at Byleth, but they aren’t in the place they were before I spoke. Instead they stood beside me, also gazing forlornly out the window, surveying the town below, like a deity beholding its creation. It felt like hours before they spoke.

“I used to live in Duscur...for a short time, yes, but long enough to make fond memories.”

Byleth looked my way, and from their look, I knew I was understood.

“I will be your counsel tomorrow on the day of the trial. Please leave the evidence for me to look over; I feel you’ve locked yourself in here for long enough.” 

Byleth walked to the front of the office and opened the door for me. I gathered my belongings, and made toward the exit, when they spoke up for the last time.

“You know...we joke a lot about how I hired you out of pity, but I hope you know that that couldn’t be further from the truth,” they started, “you have something special, Dimitri, a sense of justice that I had never seen from my students before teaching you. I’m honored to have you as part of my practice.”

Despite the day’s trials and tribulations, I felt my stress melt with the warmth of their words. I turned around to say thank you, and to return the praise, but was met with a “goodnight, Dimitri,” and a door slammed in my face.

Typical Byleth. I could almost see their mischievous smirk through the door between us. Nonetheless, I descended the stairs out into the chilling Faerghus night sky; the stars were glimmering, endless.

This morning, I would not have had the heart to walk into my home, knowing dad wouldn’t be there, snoring away in the bedroom adjacent to mine. But tonight, the thought only made me pedal faster. 

I have a reason. I have faith. This trial will be mine.

Yet, something still stirred in the recesses of my mind. 

While I slept soundly in my bed that night, something else was rousing itself to consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The trial for this case will be featured in the next chapter (I plan to separate investigations/trials by chapter). I have 4-ish cases that I plan to write, but that may change. The next chapter, however, is already available!
> 
> From this chapter, it’s probably already obvious that I am straying from perfect canon of the events of FE3H, and I hope that is okay with you all! Also, I plan to introduce some ships...whether they’re implied or major depends on how i am feeling as i continue to write lol…
> 
> I hope you enjoyed what I have so far! Please leave a kudos or comment if you’re willing, it’s awesome motivation! It also gives me a reason to procrastinate on my homework <3 plus, i would love to hear any ideas and suggestions you may have!
> 
> I will update my twitter @/rmylv when I release new chapters!


	2. Turnabout Answers: Trial Phase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Dimitri's time to shine; his very first trial is today! However, the case runs deeper than expected, making unwarranted connections with Dimitri's past, and awakening something deep inside him that he is forced to confront.

**_December 15, 9:32 AM_ **

**_Courthouse Lobby_ **

Well, today is the day. I say this as if it’s been weeks since I took this case, whereas in reality, it’s been less than one day.

I admit that I had a bit of a crisis before arriving; the last time I had worn a proper suit was my law school graduation, and let’s just say that I’m a bit...wider than I used to be. 

Basically, I didn’t have a suit to wear. To the courthouse. For my first trial.

Except...I did. 

I trespassed the threshold into my father’s room, and was met with blurry vision. 

Sheets expertly crumpled, as he wasn’t one to busy himself with trivial things like making his bed. Papers and files piled high on top of his desk, littered signatures of his approval, always in bright blue ink. Two picture frames stood on his bed stand. To the left, a photo of himself and my late mother, looking joyfully at their newborn son in their arms. To the right, a snapshot of me at my high school graduation, flanked by my dad and his ex-wife, Patricia. The three people he loved most.

Once I realized my tears were overflowing their precipice, I quickly walked over to the closet. Inside I found an array of suits, each bearing small but noticeable variations in style and color. Filing through each, I stopped once I came across the sapphire blue set he wore at my graduation from law school. It was a clear choice.

After a quick YouTube tutorial to remind myself of how to put the bits and pieces of the suit on my body, I strapped on the neurotherapy gloves that I picked up from the hospital last night. Marianne, the nurse I had ran out on, was kinder than I deserved as she explained how they worked. Although nowhere near normal, having the ability to use my hands again was a huge relief, and my pre-trial jitters dropped down a notch. 

Looking at myself in the mirror, wearing his suit, it was a bit overwhelming. 

Did I deserve to wear this? 

His hair was always slicked back, while mine was currently a tangled mess. Where his eyes shone with confidence, mine was dull with fear. Did I mention that I only have one of those, by the way? One-eyed Dimitri, surely no short of charm whatsoever. Even though we were of the same build, I looked and felt small, buried in a suit that could never be mine.

But this trial needed to stay on the forefront of my mind, and for his sake, I pushed my insecurities down my throat. I straightened my posture and pulled my shoulders back. In the bathroom, I combed my hair and tried my best to make it look less like a cesspool of despair. I even ate breakfast.

I walked out the door as confident rookie attorney Blaiddyd, while Dimitri was stuffed in the back of my mind, to be dealt with later.

That brings me here, to the courtroom lobby, less than half an hour before the trial begins. While I shuffled through my evidence, quadruple-checking that I wasn’t missing anything, Byleth lounged on the couch, tapping absentmindedly on their phone with a pointed index finger. 

“It must be nice to have your shit together all the time,” I grumbled in passing. 

That got their attention! Byleth looked up with dismay.

“That’s your problem, not mine, kid.”

“You are, at most, two years older than me, judging from the meager timeline of life events you’ve provided me with. Please do not call me kid ever again.”

“I think you’re going to have to recount that timeline, kid.”

Before I had time to retort, I felt a large hand on my shoulder. 

“Good morning, Dimitri.” Dedue’s warm voice greeted behind me. For someone so large, it’s astounding that he’s able to sneak up on people like that. Not that it was unpleasant in the slightest.

“Dedue,” I nodded curtly, “how are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly unperturbed. I assume it’s because I have the most trustworthy attorney on my side.”

With that and his honest grin, I felt my cheeks grow hot. Spurred by the chance to further embarrass me, Byleth sprung from the couch to introduce themselves to Dedue.

As they chatted cordially, I stole a look at the clock hanging above the courtroom doors: 9:58 AM. The trial would be starting before we knew it, and the real Dimitri was screaming from the deep recesses of my mind, begging me to turn around and run out of the courthouse. 

Was this all a mistake? Was I wrong to offer myself as Dedue’s defense? After all, it’s not like he would be tried without a lawyer; in fact whoever would have been assigned to him would be far more capable than I could ever be. 

Before the demons in my heart got the best of me, the courtroom doors swung open, not a second past 10AM. 

Well, here goes...everything. 

**_—_ **

**_December 15, 10:10 AM_ **

**_Courtroom #2_ **

I hadn’t even thought about what kind of crowd this case was going to bring in. I know now that it’s...well, a big one. After all, this was the murder trial of the mayor, as well as a high ranking police officer.

It was also the debut of a very, _very_ nervous defense attorney. And what could make said attorney even more nervous? His opposition.

Another thing I had hideously overlooked. The prosecution was none other than the notorious Edelgard von Hresvelg, more commonly known as the “Adrestian Annihliator” by Fodlan press outlets. 

Not the most ladylike title, but it’s more than appropriate. Edelgard and I graduated from Garreg Mach University law school at the same time, but while I was floundering in unemployment, she was hired by the Adrestian prosecutor’s office before she even crossed the stage. Ever since that moment, Edelgard has gone undefeated in court, ceaselessly slapping ‘guilty’ verdicts on the foreheads of Fodlan’s most treacherous criminals. 

I deeply admired Edelgard’s passion, and our history goes far beyond law school...but now wasn’t the time for retrospect. I had bigger problems, like the fact that my very first trial was against a celebrity prosecutor who has, _literally_ , never lost. 

And that trial was starting right now; Judge Alois called for our attention, his gavel echoing off the crowded pews. I looked to Byleth, who accompanied me on my left. Their expression was undecipherable, something I could best describe as treading the thin line between fearlessness and abandon.

“The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Dedue Molinaro,” the judge boomed, strangely jovial, considering this was a double homicide case. “Is the prosecution prepared?”

“The prosecution is ready, your honor.” Edelgard’s level tone is one I couldn’t forget. I noticed beside her a man dressed so dark that I initially thought he was a shadow. His deep-set, opalescent eyes stared me down, and I felt a bead of sweat begin to crawl down my brow. 

“Is the defense prepared?” I snapped out of his spell.

“The defense is ready, your honor.” 

My first words, without a hitch! Maybe this wasn’t going to be too bad after all.

“Mr. Blaiddyd, this is your first trial, is it not?” I guess I spoke too soon. The judge looked down on me, bewildered, yet amused.

“Y-yes, your honor. That it is.” A little shakier than I wanted.

He let out a bellowing guffaw. “Congratulations to you, sir! However, I would know better than to debut with a case such as the one at hand, especially at the hands of the Adrestian Annihilator herself!” he jerked his head in the direction of the prosecution, to which Edelgard responded to with a polite smile. 

“T-thanks…?” I mumbled absentmindedly. When Byleth shot jade daggers at me, I remembered that even the smallest whispers will carry to the crowd through my lapel microphone. I felt the familiar sting of blush clutch my face, and I was grateful when the trial moved past my embarrassment with the exposition of the case.

Edelgard looked primly at the summary in her hands, tracing each line with her index finger as she read to the room: 

“On December 14th, at 6:42 PM, Lambert Blaiddyd, Mayor of the City of Faerghus, and Glenn Fraldarius, Faerghus Police Commander, were pronounced dead in Faerghus Park, the scene of the crime. The cause of death for each was a perforating wound made by an unknown murder weapon. The murder occurred during a protest-turned-riot involving students from the University of Duscur. The bodies were found by a civilian passing through the park. Officer Sylvain Gautier was present at this time, and called for an investigation team, which arrived shortly.

“The investigation team reports the bodies were found tied together to a wooden telephone pole with a wool scarf. It is confirmed that this scarf belongs to the defendant, Dedue Molinaro, a PhD candidate at the University of Duscur. It has also been confirmed that Molinaro was an attendee of the aforementioned protest.”

Edelgard punctuated her final sentence with a flourish of paper, folding the statement in half. As she read, I had been following along by thumbing through my court record. The photo of Dedue’s scarf, the schematic of the scene of the crime, the autopsy report. 

I had also looked through the profiles of all individuals involved in the case; I tried not to cringe at the photo of myself clipped to my profile, which had been taken on my first day at the Eisner office, with Byleth’s iPhone 5. 

Other profiles included Sylvain’s shit-eating grin, highlighted by his unnaturally bright locks; the three Fraldarius men, each with a matching glare as dark as their shoulder-length black curls; Auntie Cornelia, who led the investigation team. There were more, but I stopped paging through when I caught a glimpse of my father’s eyes, so I shoved the profiles back into their folder.

It was now time for Dedue to take the stand.

\--

“Will the defendant please introduce themselves?” the prosecution started.

Dedue stood solid, despite the eyes of the city pervading him. It is without a doubt that the crowd was adamant on convicting this man for the death of their beloved mayor and police commander, but when Dedue spoke, they could not help be coaxed into attentiveness.

“I am Dedue Molinaro, PhD candidate at the University of Duscur, and proud citizen of Duscur,” he introduced smoothly, despite the audible murmurs that sounded at the mention of his hometown.

“Mr. Molinaro, you have been accused of the double-homicide of Lambert Blaiddyd and Glenn Fraldarius. The court requests to hear your testimony,” Edelgard declared. Her crimson eyes stared him down, and it was clear to me that she was already confident in her win.

“Of course, Ms. Hresvelg.”

\--

_Defendant Testimony: University of Duscur PhD Candidate, Dedue Molinaro_

“It is true that I was present in Faerghus Park that day; my fellow University of Duscur classmates and I were protesting unfair admission practices.” 

“Somehow, violence broke out. I don’t know how it was started, or why.”

“Police were called to the scene shortly after it started.”

“I didn’t want to be involved with the ruckus, so I left the park as quickly as possible, misplacing my scarf in the process.” 

“I share my deepest condolences for the victims, but I am confident in saying I have no connection to them, and that I was not even aware that murder had taken place.”

\--

Solid, but void of anything I could use to our advantage. Edelgard knew this, and immediately vocalized her retort.

“Mr. Molinaro, as I’m sure you are aware, a scarf evidently belonging to you was found tied to the victims,” she reminded us confidently, “a detail you have regretfully left out of your testimony. Care to explain?”

“As you wish,” Dedue politely replied.

“In the process of fleeing the riot, I lost my scarf. I hadn’t realized it was gone until I had arrived at my apartment in Duscur. I did not realize it would become the sole component of my supposed involvement with this crime.”

“Unfortunately, simplistic lies do not bode well in the court of law,” Edelgard chided, the slightest edge in her voice.

Alright, it looks like we’re jumping straight into it, I guess.

“Hold on, prosecutor,” I interjected, “there is no way to denounce Mr. Molinaro’s claim as false. It is completely plausible that he lost his scarf in the scuffle.” 

I was proud of my answer, but more proud that I had elicited a thankful smile from my defendant. Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last long, as Edelgard was already miles ahead of me.

“Mr. Blaiddyd, I would say the same claim could be applied to the converse of the defendant’s statement. Not only that, but his statement, again, fails to recognize the blatant fact that this scarf was found tied to the victims,” Edelgard lifted her chin, her eyes shining. “I do hope you keep this in mind as you begin your cross-examination, Dimitri.”

We had barely started the trial, and I could already see Edelgard digging my grave. If I didn’t get my act together soon, it could be over before we knew it.

“Very well, Prosecutor Hresvelg,” the judge concluded. “Mr. Blaiddyd, you may begin your cross-examination of the defendant.”

Okay, here goes. I wanted to be as thorough as possible, so I started by pressing Dedue on the beginning of his testimony.

“Mr. Molinaro, could you please explain why you and your classmates were gathered in Faerghus Park on the day of the crime?” 

Dedue nodded, and began to describe the details of UD’s enrollment practices, the same information he had told me in the detention center. Unfortunately, nothing new or noteworthy glimmered from his words, but at least the judge found his tale remarkable.

“Inspiring, Mr. Molinaro!” he bellowed, “it seems that the university should be _taught a lesson!_ Hoho! Get it?” his barks of laughter bounced through the room, and Dedue gave the most polite smile to the judge. I wanted to die.

I rolled with the punches and built off the next part of the testimony.

“So you have no idea what caused the protest to turn violent?”

“That is correct,” Dedue affirmed, “I only noticed something was wrong when I heard yelling, and decided to depart when I saw a student arguing with two police officers. It took me quite a while to weave my way through the crowd, and it’s likely my scarf disappeared at that time. The crowd dissipated eventually, leaving only stragglers and a few officers. That is the last I saw of the event. I did not know anyone had been killed, or injured at that.”

It was obvious that he had nothing to do with the homicide, but I know that wasn’t something I could blurt out to the court. I needed something to prove that what Dedue described was true.

“Someone, not something, Dimitri.”

Byleth’s voice rose the suggestion at my side. I stopped scratching my chin and ruminated on their hint, trying not to be irritated at their weird mind-reading skill. 

Aha!

“Dedue, you say there were officers present when you were leaving the park,” I leaned forward, pressing my palms into the bench, “are you able to describe the physical appearance of any of them?”

Edelgard lifted a brow at my question, but allowed the moment to pass without objection. 

“Most officers were in uniform, and I’m unable to remember specific details since their faces were shaded with hats,” he sighed, but continued confidently.

“I do remember one officer clearly, however,” My eye widened, this is my chance.

“Could you please elaborate?” I coaxed. Getting closer.

“I remember this officer because he was the only one wearing plainclothes-” he started, but Edelgard interrupted with a wave of her hand.

“I object, your honor,” she acclaimed, “it is impossible to deduce that someone in civilian wear could possibly be-”

“Objection!” 

Not on my watch. My voice rang in the room, and I shrunk back a little, hearing my proclamation echo.

“Prosecutor Edelgard, you rose an objection before the defendant had a chance to explain his reasoning,” I squared my hands on my hips, and this time my chin was the one held high.

“The defense is correct,” Judge Alois nodded, “Prosecutor Edelgard, I did not expect this rashness from you. You will refrain from letting your passions get ahead of you during this trial. Objection overruled!” 

Edelgard flushed pink at the slam of the gavel. Okay, that felt pretty great.

“Mr. Molinaro, please continue with your statement,” the judge appended.

“Dutifully, your honor,” and Dedue restated his earlier claim.

“One officer was wearing casual clothes; if I am remembering correctly, he wore grey sweatpants that rose mid-calf, and a white t-shirt,” he continued. Sounds like this officer needs to shop for some better-fitting clothes.

“I knew this man was an officer because he was conversing with two uniformed officers, and once they finished speaking, they bode him farewell with a salute, which led me to believe he was of a higher rank. Along with that, he wore a police badge.”

Even Edelgard couldn’t complain about that description; it was clear that this man was involved with the police investigation.

“The man was tan, with freckles visible on his forearms and face. He was tall, and a big-boned build with muscular tone. His hair was curly and a...shocking shade of red, which reached the nape of his neck. Tinted sunglasses were perched on his forehead. He seemed to be of an easygoing nature.”

Dedue finished, but halfway through his final description, I already had a more than clear idea of who this mystery cop was. I could even see his goddess-forsaken grin in my mind.

“Your honor,” I demanded, “I would like to call a witness to the stand.”

Edelgard frowned, and her dark counsel began to stare daggers at me once more. But this time, I was not self-conscious in the slightest. I had a foot in the door.

“Whoever would that be, Defense Attorney Blaiddyd?” The judge’s bushy brows met his ragged hairline in surprise.

\--

“Witness, please provide an introduction to the court.”

Sylvain rocked back and forth on his heels playfully, and laced his fingers behind his back. “With pleasure, darling!” Edelgard squinted at the flirtatious address.

“My name is Sylvain Gautier, and by day, I am a Police Captain down at the Faerghus Police Station. By night...well, I guess I can’t tell you that, heh!” he winked into the nonexistent camera in front of him, and I plopped my head into my hands.

“Very well, Mr. Gautier...I’m not quite sure the court is too interested in your nighttime activities either way,” the judge commented. “As an officer involved with the present case, and a courtroom attendee, I am sure you are aware of the defense’s request. If you will, please begin your testimony.”

“ _Ja_ , baby!” Sylvain swiped his aviators from his unbuttoned shirt collar, and pushed them up onto the bridge of his nose. I really hope this wasn’t a huge mistake.

\--

_Witness Testimony: Faerghus Police Captain, Sylvain Gautier_

“I got a call to break up a riot in Faerghus Park.” 

“The other officers and I broke up fights between individuals, and rounded up stragglers. I was the last officer on the scene when I heard a woman scream!” 

“I’m not the kind of guy to leave a damsel in distress, so I headed over to where she was.” 

“I saw their bodies, and...I don’t know, I couldn’t really form any thoughts.” 

“All I know is that my uniform was drenched in tears!”

\--

I let my head fall back, and let out a laugh in relief; this wasn’t a mistake after all. It seems Byleth wasn’t in agreement, however, because they looked at me like I was insane.

“Dimitri, I hope you know what you’re doing, because I sure don’t.”

“You don’t see it? That glaring contradiction?” I whispered excitedly, covering my lapel mic.

“...You’re scaring me. Eyes up, everyone’s looking at you.”

I brought my head back to the courtroom to find that Edelgard, Sylvain, and the judge were all looking at me peculiarly. Do I really look senile? Is it the eyepatch? I even combed my hair and everything…

“Mr Blaiddyd,” the judge yanked me out of my thoughts, “is there something about Mr. Gautier’s testimony that you would like to share to the court?” I was too high on my discovery to care about his stern frown.

“Yes, your honor, there is,” I couldn’t help that a grin was pulling at my face. I threw my arm out, extending a pointed finger. “This testimony has a glaring contradiction!”

The court audience began to murmur excitedly, and I heard quips of _where_ and _how_ among the blur. More importantly, I looked to Edelgard and her company, who stood with a look of priceless befuddlement.

It was too fun, this feeling of triumph, almost like a game...no, that’s a terrible thing to think.

Sylvain, whose sunglasses were quickly sliding down his nose, revealing wide amber eyes, looked as confused as everyone else.

“Um, where, pal?” he shoved his shades back to the top of his nose bridge.

“Come on, Sylvain, you know _exactly_ where.” I drummed my fingers on my hips, and dared to flutter my eyes at him as a tease.

He stood with his hip jutted out for a bit, eyes shut, trying desperately to rake through what could be wrong with his wording. When he realized, his eyes shot back open in shock, and the jolt of anxiety that plunged through his body nearly knocked his sunglasses off. “D-Dimitri, come on! You don’t mean…” he pleaded. “That doesn’t mean anything!”

“Actually, it does. In fact, it means a whole lot!” I slammed my fists on the table.

“Mr. Gautier,” I shouted, “why did you lie about being in uniform at the scene of the crime?”

“Gyaah!” Sylvain exclaimed, and his aviators flew off his face, skidding to a halt in the middle of the courtroom floor. “But I _was_ in uniform when I was with the inspection team! I swear, Dimitri! I swear on the lives of every lovely lady in this courtroom!”

The crowd buzzed, but the conversation was clipped short when Edelgard let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“Dimitri, old friend,” she crooned, “you’re certainly making quite a spectacle at your very first trial.” She crossed her arms and tapped her finger on her bicep. “A lie over an outfit change? Is that really what you’re going to use to worm your way out of this?”

Her jabs didn’t land, missing fruitlessly each time.

“I wouldn’t use the term ‘worm’, but if that’s what you’d like to call it, so be it,” I replied.

“Mr. Blaiddyd, I demand you explain your reasoning at once!” Judge Alois bellowed, his expression becoming exasperated, “I am hopelessly, utterly confused!”

“As you wish, your honor.”

I stepped to the side of my bench, leaning my back against it with the support of my hands.

“Even though it seems like a trivial detail, such small things can mean the difference between a ‘guilty’ and ‘not guilty’ verdict, as Prosecutor Edelgard is certainly aware of.” I nodded her way, and she glowered at me through a squint.

“Sylvain claims that when he was on the investigation team, he was wearing his police officer uniform. I don’t think he is lying, not in the slightest. As the case summary states, the investigation team arrived just after the murders occurred, when Sylvain called for them.

“However, as we remember from Dedue’s statement, Sylvain was not wearing his police uniform when he saw him. The only moment where Dedue and Sylvain were at the same place at the same time was _before_ Sylvain made the call!”

My heart was thumping in my chest, and I couldn’t help but allow my voice to further climb.

“Sylvain was not lying about his outfit, Prosecutor; he simply changed outfits between the time he discovered the body, and the time he returned to the scene as an investigator! Thus, it is impossible for Dedue Molinaro to have been anywhere near the bodies, bodies that, at the time, nobody knew existed!”

I highlighted my exclamation with a bang of my fist on Sylvain’s podium, which I had somehow made my way over to in my fit of passion. I looked him in the eyes, golden brown with flecks of the glowing sun. 

I could hear Edelgard raising her objection, claiming that my logic could be shattered by a lying defendant, but I knew it didn’t matter; Sylvain’s eyes gave me a knowing smile, the smile of knowing I’d bested him. It was always a game with this guy, friendly competition.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Sylvain laughed quietly, and Edelgard’s rambling fell dead in its tracks. “Mister Defense Attorney here is pretty damn correct.”

The crowd boiled over, so intensely that the judge had to call for order with a desperate thrash of his gavel.

“Mr. Gautier!” Judge Alois gasped, once the room had simmered down, “this information was not at all clear in your previous testimony! I demand you explain yourself!”

“Will do, your honor.” Sylvain replied, with a hint of resignation.

“The defense is correct. I was the last police officer in the park, as the stragglers had all been taken care of, when I heard our lady civilian scream. I did indeed leave the crime scene after making the call for the investigation team. I had gone down to the precinct to pull on my spare uniform; after all, I didn’t want to work with the likes of Miss Rhea Nabatea looking like a total bum!” There it is, that dazzling, crowd-pleasing, _stupid_ grin.

“When I arrived back at the park, I was immediately put to work by Detective Fraldarius, who grilled me on the details of the event until what seemed like the end of time. I was so busy meeting his bossy demands, that I didn’t even get to return to the crime scene before it was closed off for the night! Detective Fraldarius, he’s an...interesting...guy.” 

Sylvain rubbed his neck, and his cheeks bloomed to match his hair. I looked into the crowd where he was staring, and saw Felix, livid with steam fuming from his ears.

“Thank you for clarifying, Mr. Gautier,” the judge concluded, but backtracked with a question, “I am still curious, however, as to why you didn’t just put on your police uniform before leaving for the park the _first_ time! I assume you have an abundance of uniforms at your home, correct?”

Sylvain’s entire face was now crimson, and he laughed nervously, eyes darting.

“Y-yeah, about that, I uh...you see, I wasn’t...at home?” he mumbled.

Ah, the whore. No wonder.

“Not at home? Wherever in the world could you have been?” the judge barked, not seeming to care that Edelgard and I were exchanging glum looks at each other, as our trial derailed further off topic.

“Ummmmmmm…” Goddess, just answer the question; it’s not like his flings are a secret to anyone. But this behavior was new from Sylvain, and for some reason he seemed extremely uncomfortable divulging his recent hook-up with the court.

“I was...well...I was at...Detective Fraldarius’ apartment.”

His last words were a close-to-indiscernible mumble, but it was enough to jostle the court like a soap opera plot hook. I heard dull thuds above me, and I looked up to see Felix banging his head on the pew bannister.

Huh. Felix and Sylvain? Really?

“I see…” the judge furrowed his brow, and seemed blind to what Sylvain’s erratic behavior had been insinuating. “This is quite a heap of new information, Mr. Gautier. I request that you amend your wrongs, and restart your testimony!”

I felt the cogs in my brain rev up again, and Edelgard’s head snapped up, as if she had been asleep this whole time.

Sylvain swiped his sunglasses from the floor, rubbed them clean on his shirt, and snapped them back onto his face.

“No problem, and I won’t leave out any juicy details this time around!”

\--

_Witness Testimony #2: Faerghus Police Captain, Sylvain Gautier_

  
  


“It’s true, I was off duty when I got the call from Glenn requesting for emergency backup.” 

“I’m pretty sure he and Uncle Lambert were attacked while I was driving to the scene from Felix’s apartment.” 

“When I arrived...yeah. They were already gone, lying on the floor where the maiden found them. So I called the investigation team.”

I just can’t help but feel like...if only I had been on duty that day...I’m so sorry, Felix, Dimitri...”

\--

As his words trailed off in an unprecedented seriousness, the court had a clear change in tone. I wanted to run back up to the podium and give Sylvain a taste of his own bone-shattering hugs, to tell him there was nothing he could have done, that it wasn’t his fault.

However, now wasn’t the time, nor the place for that. I was running out of time to prove Dedue’s innocence, and I knew Edelgard was running out of patience.

Yet, I couldn’t see anything wrong with Sylvain’s statement. It was exactly like he said earlier: he left Felix’s apartment when called, found the bodies, changed outfits, and came back. Yes, it shows that Dedue was on the scene _before_ the murder occurred, but that doesn’t change Edelgard’s stance of Dedue lying about not being there after.

“Dimitri.”

Oh yeah, Byleth was here. I looked at them, and they smiled at my cluelessness.

“Now I’m surprised that you don’t see this one. It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

...see what, now? 

“Professor, I believe I know what contradiction you speak of.”

I jerked my head to see Edelgard strutting to the middle of the room, facing our shared former teacher. 

Did she just...point out a contradiction that...would _help_ me?

“Defense Attorney Blaiddyd, there’s a clear flaw in Sylvain’s statement, one that unfortunately puts quite a rip in my carefully crafted logic.” Byleth’s words rang clearly.

She was so calm, but she was talking about something that could literally tear her case apart. Something that I still had NO clue what she was--

Byleth cleared their throat and slid the court record across the bench in my direction. Giving them a sideways glance, I spread out the evidence I had gathered, and had a revelation.

“Um, hey? Could you guys stop telepathy-ing or whatever and tell me what I did wrong?” Sylvain chirped, sweating bullets.

I picked up the crime scene schematic. “Sylvain, you didn’t do anything wrong. At least, not anything you would know about.” He didn’t look any more relieved. 

Edelgard gave me a satisfied smirk, and for a split second, I saw a glimpse of our past through her eyes: bickering over practice cases in the library, tag-teaming during class discussion, and, although decades ago...dancing foolishly on the lawn of our elementary school.

I did not realize how much I had missed her. Her wit. Her passion.

“If you take a look at this schematic of the crime scene, you would be reminded of the circumstances of murder: the victims were found tied to a telephone pole with Mr. Molinaro’s scarf. If I’m correct in interpreting his testimony, Sylvain would say otherwise. Sylvain?”

This was key. When I finished speaking and looked his way, Sylvain had turned white with shock.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound anything like the crime scene I saw,” he slowly conjectured. 

“When I found the girl who was screaming, she was hunched over something. When she pulled away, the victims were lying face-down in the dirt. This schematic, it’s...it’s not correct.”

The judge preemptively banged his gavel, knowing this response was going to rupture the audience. 

“Order! Order! Mr. Gautier, are you suggesting that the crime scene was falsely described?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Sylvain said clearly, but his eyes were distant, staring into the pews above. I followed his gaze and saw Felix, who shared the same expression.

The tables had started to turn, and I knew exactly what to do to flip them on their heads once and for all.

“I guess there’s one thing I forgot to mention,” Sylvain announced. His eyes were dark, and I had never seen him so serious. 

“Before I made the call to the investigation team, I had called Detective Fraldarius. After all, the victim was his own brother. Thought he’d want to hear about it as soon as possible.”

The room dissolved into reckless commotion. It seemed everyone was on the same page about calling a certain witness to testify, because when I searched the crowd for Felix, he had already started descending the stairs, headed toward the podium.

\--

“Detective Fraldarius.”

Edelgard thoughtfully tapped a finger against her lips. “This is certainly an unexpected development.”

“Yeah.”

He leaned on his podium, hands nonchalantly pocketed in his black jeans. For once, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or feeling, from the look on his face. 

It didn’t help that my mind was racing. I didn’t want this to be true. 

“That is something I have to agree with, Prosecutor,” the judge spoke grimly. “The witness will now introduce himself to the court.”

“Felix Fraldarius. Second to the Chief Detective. Head detective on the Blaiddyd-Fraldarius case.” He listed this off without a hitch, eyes aflame.

“I would like to take the moment to validate some details shared by our previous witness,” Edelgard immediately stated. “Detective, can you confirm that Officer Gautier was indeed in your presence at the moments described in his testimony?”

It was Felix’s turn to lose his chill, because at that his ears brimmed with red. 

“Okay, okay, _fine._ Sylvain was with me, and he borrowed my clothes, b-but that literally doesn’t have _anything_ to do with _anything_. We were having a...a meeting.” 

Felix’s blubbers made me chuckle absentmindedly, but then I was brought back to the graveness of the accusations he was currently perched atop.

“Thank you,” Edelgard curtly flipped through her court record. “Next, before we allow you to testify, we would like to hear your affirmation that you understand the current stance of the case, and what we are asking of you.” Even though she had finished looking through her notes, Edelgard kept her eyes glued to the papers for a while, before she finally dared to look up at Felix.

Felix was laughing; the same low, rumbling, malicious chuckle I heard for the first time in the park yesterday. He did not take his eyes off the ground, and stood silent for a moment before answering.

“You really think I did it, huh?”

I braced myself, knowing we were plummeting toward a Felix nobody wanted to see. 

However, my expectations were wrong.

Where I expected a feral snarl of insurmountable anger, there was instead an ear-splitting slam.

His hands slammed down and clamped the edge of the podium, knuckles so white they bordered on translucent. He was hunched over, arms shaking.

Felix was sobbing.

“...Glenn…how could you l-leave me here…”

I tried to hold back, but it was too much. I stood there, behind the bench, tears streaming down my face like a child. I felt Byleth’s hand rest on my shoulder. 

Minutes felt like hours as the court was choked by silence, sans the sound of Felix’s sobs. Eventually, he gathered himself, and stood, eyes red with exhaustion. 

“...yeah, I’ll talk,” he sniffed, but his everyday tone of irritation had crept back into his voice, “but it’s not the grand confession you’re all so desperate for.”

\--

_Witness Testimony: Head Detective, Felix Fraldarius_

“...Do you know how it feels to be called to investigate the murder of your own brother...your best friend?”

“...Anyways, Sylvain had called me before calling the investigation team to tell me...what happened.”

“When I got there, the investigation team hadn’t yet arrived, but the chief of police told me the victims were tied to a pole and stabbed with a tactical knife. I surveyed the scene and I can confirm that the schematic is accurate.” 

“I don’t know what Sylvain is talking about, with them being on the ground, because what the chief said was true.” 

“When I saw...when I saw them...they were tied to a pole with Molinaro’s scarf, like the crime scene photo shows. And my testing proves it really is his scarf. No doubt about it.”

\--

It seems we were back at square one. This time, however, with more questions. Still, all I could do was push forward.

“...and you are absolutely sure that everything in the court record, including the schematic, matches the crime scene you saw?” I murmured. I sat my chin on my laced knuckles, trying to detangle his testimony for a clue.

“Do I look stupid? They’re the same.” The defensive sass was back. Felix’s arms were tightly crossed over his chest.

I was exhausted; there was nothing to pick out of anything he said, but my heart kept whispering, _keep going, keep going._

“You mentioned that when you arrived, Chief of Police Cornelia was there. Was there anyone else other than the two of you?”

“The only other person was some lady she was with, I assumed she was a witness. I don’t remember what she looked like, sorry,” he grumbled.

My mind was reeling, and I could see Edelgard’s impatience rising in her throat, ready to rebalance her case, and send me packing. There had to be something there…

Something there.

There wasn’t anything there.

I started to shake, and Byleth’s mouth was moving, a concerned look on their face, but I couldn’t hear anything but that single thought, bouncing off the walls of my mind.

“Felix.”

It was almost a whisper, but the room fell silent, and the city’s eyes were on me.

“Please repeat your description of your conversation with the Chief of Police.”

He squinted at me, clearly not following my racing train of thought.

“The chief took me aside and gave her condolences for my loss. I asked her for details of the murder, since I hadn’t yet seen what happened. She told me that the two victims were tied to a telephone pole in the park with a scarf, and died from stab wounds with…”

He froze, mouth left agape. I saw my own thoughts in his head, fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. While the crowd whispered in exasperated confusion, and the judge was readying his loud interruption, Felix looked me in the eye, and we said it together:

“There wasn’t anything there.”

The court did nothing but continue their rumbling, but Edelgard had turned white, whiter than her hair.

“No…” she began, but could not finish.

I picked up the autopsy report and handed it to the judge. On my way back to the bench, I noticed Byleth’s expression, shining with pride. 

“What’s this? The autopsy report? I’ll have you know I’ve already read this in great detail!” Judge Alois complained, but I just shook my head.

“There’s something in there that’s important. Small, but important.”

Groaning, the judge began to skim the contents, coming to a halt on one page. He scanned it once, then twice, then three times, with each read his nose drawing closer to the paper.

“I see.” He dropped the file to his desk, nodding. “Would the defense like to explain this to the court?”

“I would be honored,” I took a deep breath. Here it was, the hitch I was begging for.

“The witness testifies he was told by the chief of police that the murder weapon was a tactical knife. However, according to the autopsy report, classification of the weapon used was inconclusive. Not only that, but there was no murder weapon found at the scene of the crime. 

“It is impossible for the Chief of Police to have known what the murder weapon was. That is...if she had never seen it.”

The audience was in shambles, filled with shocked gasps and exclamations of incredulity. _The chief of police? Cornelia?_ I heard. _Involved in the crime! How can it be?_

How could it be, indeed? Normally I would be thinking twice about accusing my aunt of such a crime. 

But I knew something no one else did. I had evidence that the prosecution did not.

That was the moment I solved the case. 

Now, all that was left was to deliver the final blows.

\--

Aunt Cornelia stood nonplussed at the witness podium, looking at her fingernails.

Here I was, accusing one of my favorite people, one of my role models, of murdering her friend and her employee. 

Cornelia, before being appointed to the Chief of Faerghus Police (with high praise from my father), used to work for the national government as a forensic scientist. It was through this position she found high acclaim, after she solved a decades-old case with her research. She was a celebrity, and Faerghus never forgot that.

As the chief, Cornelia was well loved by her community; she was fair and kind, delivering justice and charity to the city. Her smile was warmer than the afternoon sun, her laugh infectious. Possibly the most giving person in the universe.

That wasn’t who stood at the podium in front of me.

Until today, I hadn’t seen my aunt in years, due to how busy I was in school. My father was right in saying that she had changed. 

The woman I saw now had eyes of ice, opaque and void of emotion. Her expression was...bored. Her long, pink hair, which used to always be pulled into a sleek bun, curled selfishly around her shoulders, which bore a deep burgundy mink shawl.

A stranger.

When she looked at me, she giggled. The haunting, cruel sound would echo in my nightmares for years to come.

“Alright, nephew, I’ll play your little game!”

\--

_Witness Testimony: Chief of Faerghus Police Force, Cornelia Arnim_

“I was called to the courtroom and came as soon as I could, only to find that I was being accused of murder? How silly!”

“Two days ago, the day of the murder, I was at the crime scene. I saw poor Lambert and Glenn, and my heart shattered...how could anyone do this?”

“As many know, I was once a forensic scientist under the Fodlan National Court. Looking at the corpses, the wounds were similar to those I had worked with before, those being made by tactical knives.”

“So that’s why I told the little detective what I did. Was I not supposed to do my job and tell him what I thought was correct? How foolish of me!”

“This outlandish claim is baseless. I had nothing to do with the crime. You’re wasting precious time with this trial, time that the Duscur scum should be spending behind bars.”

\--

I seethed with anger, and it took me all of my strength not to scream at the person in front of me. The way she mocked me, mocked the trial, mocked Dedue…it was the limit of what I could handle. 

I wanted her gone, out of my sight.

Luckily for me, Edelgard took the first step in examination. “Ms Arnim, your testimony described the murder weapon as a ‘tactical knife’. Can you explain how you came to this conclusion?”

“Certainly, love.” Her voice dripped with sickening sweetness.

“The wounds on the corpses were perforated, meaning they cut clean through their bodies. They were also wide gashes, with ragged corners. In my practice, wounds such as those are only left by tactical knives.”

During her explanation, Byleth covered their mic and whispered to me, “Dimitri, you know what a tactical knife is, right?”

“Um...no, actually.” This isn’t really something they cover in law school. Or true crime dramas.

They flashed me a photo of one on their phone: a curved, sinister blade with serrated teeth at the base. Reading a list of articles, it was a military/police issue weapon that is restricted from public distribution. I started to feel queasy, knowing this was the weapon that killed the people I loved.

I thanked Byleth, but apparently that wasn’t good enough.

“ _Dimitri,_ ” they hissed, “think about it!”

I hated these little guessing games; I understand that as a professor, Byleth wanted me to come to conclusions on my own, but this was a real-ass trial with a real-ass crime, and I was desperate.

Before I could pick my brain, Edelgard was quick to get back on the road.

“Your honor, with this testimony, I believe we can conclude this branch of our trial,” she began, and my heart pumped in anxiety. “While the Chief of Police’s deduction was ill-informed, the case still stands that Dedue Molinaro’s scarf bound the victims to a telephone pole. If anything, we may have found from this digression the weapon Molinaro used to-”

_Click._

“Hold it!” I shouted, slamming my palms on the table. Edelgard fell quiet, and her counsel (who I had forgotten was there) brought a pale hand to his forehead in exasperation. I would be tired of me, too, but I had gathered the nails to seal this coffin.

“Regardless of the circumstances of how Ms. Arnim knew of the weapon type, we need to take a look at the laws of Fodlan,” I interjected. “Our nation has a strict law against the possession of tactical knives by anyone but the police and military. Not only does this prove that Dedue could not possibly have access to such a thing, but it proves that the Chief of Police could have definitely been involved in the murder!”

But Edelgard was relentless. 

“Even so, this does not change the circumstances of the murder! Dedue Molinaro’s scarf was used to immobilize the victims, where they were then stabbed!” Her proclamation stung.

“But Sylvain’s testimony--” I started, but was cut short.

“Again, Dimitri, there is absolutely no proof that what Sylvain saw was the truth. If you want to keep grasping for a loophole that isn’t there, please, continue! However, if you have any consideration for the state of this case, you would show me something to prove me wrong! Well? Do you have anything at all, Dimitri? Prove to me that the crime scene was tampered with!”

The screams of the Adrestian Annihilator reverberated in the dead-silent courtroom. I could see now how she had gone undefeated for her entire career.

That is, until today. Two could play at this game, and I was determined to win.

I _needed_ to win.

“Okay. Here you go.”

I met her halfway across the room and passed her a single page of the autopsy report.

As she read it over, I stared at her furrowed brow, her pout of befuddlement, littered with soft panting. I haven’t seen her this wrung-out since law school, and I’m sure she hadn’t seen me as calm as I was in this moment, since then, either.

“You’re as good as I remember,” she murmured. A soft smile.

“Thanks, El.” A smile I could return.

We returned to our benches, and I looked Cornelia straight in her cold blue eyes. She gave me a ruthless, sharp smile devoid of happiness or honesty. 

I wanted her _gone._

“It is without a doubt that the crime scene had been altered between the time of the murder, and the time the investigation team arrived.”

I brandished the paper, and read the words printed on it:

“‘The victims both sustained perforated stab wounds with an unknown weapon, each entering through their backs, and exiting next to their navel.’ Ms Arnim, if you would, could you explain how these could have possibly been inflicted, if the victims were indeed tied with their backs to the telephone as you claim?”

Among the audience’s excited whispers, I heard a shrill _I TOLD you! Nobody ever believes me, Fe! Ever!_ from the upper level of pews.

I was brought back down to the courtroom floor when I heard that haunting cackle again. It grew louder, and louder still, until it was a shriek. Cornelia was lost in her bellows, and when she finally came to, throwing her head forward, hair lobbed over her maniacal grin, she was blind to the world, and could only see me.

I could only see her, and the world around me was cast away in shadows.

“You’re just like your father, little Dimitri.”

I kept my mouth shut, and allowed her to continue.

“Arrogant. Rash. Desperate for answers...always searching for the answers he could never dream of finding. It was endearing at times, yes, but...it could not carry him through to the end, it seems.”

I closed my eyes, patiently waiting. Nothing could shake the indescribable peace I felt.

“Like father, like son, it seems to be! Because it seems like you haven’t covered all of your bases, nephew. Tell me, oh _please_ tell me, what kind of motive I would have to kill Lambert, who has been my bosom friend for all my life?”

Finally.

I pushed the court record aside, to which Byleth seemed to protest. Instead, I reached into the watch pocket of my father’s suit jacket, and pulled out a somewhat crumpled sheet of paper. I unfolded it and smoothed it out on the desk, but before I could begin to read off of it, the witness was sputtering.

The warrant for the audit, given to me by my father on the morning of his death.

“You...how... _how did you get that?_ ” Desperation flooded her voice. “Nobody is supposed to know about that, nobody but--”

“Nobody but Lambert Blaiddyd and Rodrigue Fraldarius,” I finished for her. “You’re correct. But unfortunately, I had accompanied the mayor and vice mayor on their walk to the precinct. I knew about the police audit. I know what you did, Cornelia.”

From the loud yammering from the pews, to the humorously vacant expression on the prosecution and judge’s faces, to Byleth’s glare of _what the actual fuck are you talking about_ , it was very clear that this battle was now down to two.

I had everyone and everything right where I wanted, and I could see the chess pieces of the case align in a checkmate. She was all mine, at my mercy…

Glenn and dad would’ve been so proud.

Right?

“You _brat,_ ” Cornelia hissed, her pupils an indiscernible pinprick, drowning in her flat eyes, “but you’re still _so_ wrong, _so_ lost! Tell me something, nephew, something miraculous! Tell me why I would drive my blade through Glenn, my own employee, who had absolutely nothing to do with your father’s stupid quest to to ruin me?”

“It’s simple, really,” the amount of calm I felt was almost overbearing. I was coming to conclusions without a second thought, as if I had all of the answers all along. I was...enjoying this. I enjoyed her pain, her fall from grace. 

No...that’s not right. I-it’s not right.

“‘From behind, Felix looks just like Glenn, just like their father’,” I quoted my own thoughts from the day prior, when I had faced off with Felix in the park. I held Glenn and Rodrigue’s profiles side by side.

“You didn’t stab Glenn, at least that’s what you thought. You had no reason to, and still don’t to this day. 

“However, with the logic behind my father’s murder, it is without a doubt that you believed you had killed Rodrigue; after all, you only saw their backs. But instead, the life you stole was one who had nothing to do with your scheme. Isn’t this all too true, Cornelia?”

My blood boiled, but not in anger; it was a feeling of victory, but tinged with something sharp and unfamiliar. 

It felt good. 

It spurred me on. 

“Tell me, Cornelia,” I mocked, my voice low, “should I read this audit out to the court? Or would you be as kind as to admit your crime and preserve your secret for the time being?”

Revenge. That was this feeling. 

The taste was more sweet than it was bitter, and I relished every bit of it. 

It rolled off my tongue, coated my throat, and poisoned my soul. 

I didn’t register the look of fearful concern Byleth gave me, and didn’t see Edelgard whispering to her partner, eyes frightened and locked to me. I could care less about what I looked like to them.

I didn’t care about anything at all. 

I won.

Their souls can rest.

The witness was shaking with resentment, sweat dripping down her temples, muddying the rouge on her cheeks. I couldn’t call her a woman, because the thing in front of me was a being of pure evil. The sight was delectable, more satisfying than any victory I could have imagined.

Her panting closed into a sneer, and she uttered something that I don’t understand to this day.

“...Anselma...you _bitch_ …”

At this, Edelgard let out a shrill gasp, and her mouth circled with the intention to scream, but her partner grabbed her by the arm and held her back. She was unrecognizable, her terror contorting her face, like a mask. 

I didn’t understand what happened just then, but I didn’t have any more time to think, because Cornelia was already admitting her crime.

She knew that she was going to be audited that day, due to a tip from someone she would not mention. Whatever she was doing in that precinct, I never found out, and she was determined that nobody else would ever know, either. She saw the opportunity to get rid of my father and Rodrigue, the only blemishes on her lie, because of the cover the protest could provide her. 

She snuck into the park with a group of accomplices, who caused the pandemonium, and helped her drag my father and Glenn deeper into the park. They were incapacitated by her associates, then killed. 

When she heard footsteps approach, she hid behind shrubbery. The girl screamed. Sylvain came. They left to meet the investigation team. When the coast was clear, Cornelia adjusted the scene to frame Dedue, and cover up her tracks. 

She then joined Felix at the front gate. The murder weapon was still in her holster when she lied to him through her teeth.

She lied to me, to my father, to everyone. 

She is the reason for my suffering, taking the people I loved from my grasp and turning them into nothing but memories.

This answer wasn’t enough, and I now know that it never was going to be. 

I wanted more. I wanted her to suffer, to pay. I wanted them back.

Then, the dark, cloudy vignette cleared my eyes, and I snapped out of my trance when Cornelias handcuffs locked with a dull clink. 

I was trembling. 

What...what had I become, just now?

I turned to Byleth, who was thinking the same thing. They pursed their lips, brow knitted with worry, and we both knew that this was something we couldn’t overlook, even though the case had ended.

The case had ended.

With this realization, I looked to the podium and saw Dedue had taken the monster’s place. His expression was the same as it always was: serene, and inexplicably knowing. The court was reeling, so the judge was quick to deliver the verdict:

_Dedue Molinaro: Not Guilty._

Just like that, it was over, the trial was adjourned, and the first person to leave the room was Edelgard, who sprinted out the door, her counsel trailing behind. I guess I would have to try and talk to her later. Byleth and I gathered our documents, packed up, and left the courtroom.

**_\--_ **

**_December 15, 5:34 PM_ **

**_Courthouse Lobby_ **

As insane as the trial was, the buzz following it was of equal caliber. Reporters had cornered me, and were asking me vapid questions about my first trial, my first win, blah blah blah. This case was sure to be a headliner, plaguing news outlets for who knows how long.

I was saved from the madness when Dedue asked for a word with me, and the crowd quickly dispersed at the sight of such an enormous man.

“Long time no see,” I grinned wearily, “how does it feel to be free?”

“It feels splendid, Dimitri, and it’s all thanks to you. I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am to you for everything you’ve done. You were absolutely unstoppable in there.” 

With each praise, my face burned hotter. 

“Dedue...thanks,” I averted my gaze and linked my fingers behind my head, “but there wasn’t much done on my part. The truth was laid plain out to see; you are innocent, and all I had to do was explain why.”

“Your modesty is admirable, but it does not fool me. You are nothing but a genius. I swear that I will stop at nothing to repay you.”

I was saved from the shower of kindness when Byleth came to my rescue.

“Actually, there is one thing I can propose that can benefit the both of you,” they chided, looking between Dedue and myself. 

“Uh, Professor? I’m not sure I follow,” I looked at Dedue, who also had a brow raised in query.

“As I understand it, Mr. Molinaro, you are studying Criminal Psychology. Seeing as Dimitri is clearly fit to hold his own in a trial, he will be needing a benchside partner, as I was for him today. You may notice that Prosecutor Hresvelg also had counsel today.”

I was so overcome by Byleth’s insinuation, that I almost missed the compliment they had snuck in their statement. “Professor, you don’t mean…?”

“Yes, I _do_ mean. Mr. Molinaro...Dedue, I would like to offer you an internship at my law office. You would be working with Dimitri, as his investigative partner, helping him with the cases that are sure to come flooding after this trial. I hope you will consider my offer.”

I was overjoyed, nearly giddy with this development. Not only was I no longer a mere mentee, but a defense attorney who deserved his own counsel! I looked up at Dedue, who met me with the largest grin I had ever seen him wear

“I would be honored, Mx Eisner. I look forward to working with you both.”

Elated, I shook Dedue’s hand (possibly a little too hard, as he let out a grunt), and left them to discuss the logistics of the internship. As for me, there was one person who I still needed to talk to.

I found who I was looking for perched on a windowsill, far from the lobby’s commotion, staring out into the cloudy evening sky. 

“Edelgard.”

She jolted from her trance, and turned her head in my direction.

“Hello.”

I walked to the other corner of the window and sat across from her, bending my knees to make room. We allowed a comfortable silence to pass. Before I could ask, she answered.

“Anselma is my mother’s name.”

At this, I thought back to the trial, where Edelgard leapt at the slip of this name from Cornelia’s lips. 

When Edelgard was still in elementary school, her mother disappeared from her life. Already absent of a father, she was adopted by her uncle. From the little else I know of her past, she had a difficult childhood. Anyone who has ever met her could see she was wise beyond her years, her eyes holding a lifetime’s worth of pain.

“You think Cornelia was speaking of your mother?” I murmured.

She nodded. “I’m sure of it. I don’t know how, but...I just know. Sometimes you just know, you know?” I chuckled at her choice of words, and it elicited a shy smile from her. “Sorry, I know I’m not making any sense. It’s been a long day.”

“Tell me about it,” I leaned my forehead against the cool glass.

“Either way, I’ll be visiting her tomorrow morning, at the detention center. Cornelia.” She returned her eyes to the skyline.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Silence.

“Yes...there’s so many things I need to know, so many questions...I just need--”

“Answers. I know. I understand.”

She surveyed my face after the interruption, and it was now my turn to be questioned.

“Dimitri...near the end of the trial, there was a moment where you...changed.” Edelgard’s tone was reserved, tiptoeing along the topic.

I drew a deep breath. “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure what happened. I just...wasn’t thinking straight. Just really angry, I guess. She killed my dad, and my best friend.”

“That’s true...but still...it was frightening.” Edelgard’s eyes searched mine.

“Could you tell me what you saw?” I didn’t want to know, but it was important.

Edelgard stared down at her feet, which dangled from the windowsill, the heels of her pumps clicking against the wall.

“You became someone I didn’t know,” she whispered, “...vicious, on the verge of what seemed to be insanity. You questioned and pressed her like it was some twisted game, your words mocking and laughing at her guilt. I mentioned my worry to Hubert--my partner--and what he said sort of explains the man you became perfectly.

“‘It seems he’s turned into the king of delusion.’” Edelgard bit her lip, and turned away from me.

Shame flooded me, but was soon replaced with a white-hot strike of fear. 

King of Delusion. Was this my ‘Adrestian Annihilator’?

Is that the path I am paving for myself with this high-profile trial, the kind of person I am in the eyes of the world, the upcoming press release…

Is that how my friends, my family now see me? 

...it seems like it’s too late to ask that question now.

My friends all saw what happened in the courtroom. 

And I have no family. Not anymore.

I stood abruptly, face set in stone. Edelgard made to stand, but I looked her in the eye, and she resigned to her perch.

I dodged the paparazzi and pushed through the courthouse doors, grabbing a rain poncho from a dispenser. The barrage of rain ceaselessly poured down on me. I pulled the plastic black poncho over my shoulders, and absentmindedly took my usual shortcut home through Faerghus Park.

I realized my mistake when I saw the wooden telephone pole.

The crime scene had been, for the most part, wiped away. There was no caution tape to be found, no detective tarps or tents, no forsaken scarves. 

I trodded through the mud, averting my eyes, but something called me to the pole. An indescribable pull, coaxing me. Begging me.

Entranced, I waded to the cursed thing, not noticing that the mud was rising well past my ankles. Someone else was doing the walking, and I was a passenger. 

I had a final fleeting thought to turn back, but the stranger strangled the idea and kept inching toward the pole. The calls had turned into audible voices, loud, screaming for help.

_Please, come help me. Don’t just stand there._

_How could you let this happen, Dimitri?_

_You were my best friend. You swore._

_My son. Please._

Stumbling through the mud, I covered my ears with my gloved hands, trying to shut out the howls of Glenn and my father. I heard myself screeching, echoing through the desolate park, trying to tell them I was here, and that I did my best, pleading to know what more they could want. That I would do anything. I _will_ do anything.

Warmth trickled down my brow and snaked over my cheek. Stars fuzzed past my eyes, and I realized I had hit my head on the telephone pole. I laid there supine in the grass, the rain piercing me like thorns.

I raised my hand to my face.

Blood.

My own? Glenn’s? Father’s? 

Did it matter?

I slowly trudged over to the fountain of Seiros at the center of the park, the pirouetting streams of water spinning a dizzying cacophony with the fall of rain. Through the waterfall at the center, I saw him in my reflection.

Hair matted and tangled, blond tendrils rendered colorless in the pouring rain. 

Suit soaked pitch black, endless.

The poncho billowing over his shoulders, like a makeshift cape for a false royal. 

A bloodshot eye which caught a glimpse of a foreboding hurricane. Glowing with hunger, need, desire.

And of course, the blood. 

His face, his hands, soiled in it. Stained for all of eternity.

The King of Delusion was awake.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this case didn't end on the happiest of notes, but i promise the next case will be less of a downer...maybe...also i am XTRA sorry for sylvain's 'ja baby' i was just Feeling It and i hate sylvain
> 
> i hope you enjoyed these two chapters! i really enjoyed writing this, and i can't wait to write more!
> 
> the next case will have a different prosecutor and defense, i wonder who...hmmm...


End file.
